Restless
by wildegreenlight
Summary: Ron battles insomnia, a broken heart, and his sister on the day before his 17th birthday. (A plot bunny that ran amuck.) If you love lovesick Ron and sassy Ginny, this story is for you!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have been wrestling with this plot bunny for quite a while. I wrote the first couple of paragraphs before I wrote** ** _Reconciling Accounts,_** **but then I got caught up in that and put it aside. This week I have worked on it, expecting it to be a drabble or a short one shot…well, it grew! As callieskye said "the muse wants what the muse wants." So here it is in its 3100 word glory. Rated M for artificial lemons and Ron's mouth.**

Despite what he had said to Lavender, Ron had not been the least bit tired when he came up to bed. It had been ridiculously early when he had, rather unconvincingly from the expression she wore, yawned dramatically and announced that he was turning in. The common room had been full, so he was mercifully able to slip up the stairs before she had much chance to protest.

He just wanted to be alone. The little voice inside his head argued, _not entirely true is it?_ Well, if he were completely honest with himself…but what good did it do to admit what you wanted if you were never gonna get it. He learned that lesson a long time ago; it's always better to not want things than to be disappointed.

 _You're doing a brilliant job of that you wanker!_

It was getting worse. During those first days his anger had been so fierce that he actually felt satisfaction at the revulsion he saw on Hermione's face when she would catch him and Lavender. It stoked the flames in his heart to see her so angry; he still had impure thoughts about the way she looked when she had set those canaries on him. _The way her eyes had flashed, the way her hair stuck out wildly, she was so effing hot when she was mad!_ But those flames had all been doused by the tears she tried to hide after he had been a complete arse and mocked her in class. He hadn't even been angry when she announced she had given McLaggen the party invitation that should have been, hell, that **had** been, his. _I deserved it, even that crack about "really good Qudditich players"._

After seeing her walk out of the common room on that ape's arm, he thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse. Yet somehow it had all gone spectacularly downhill from there.

The weeks of being so close to her, but not being able to talk to her, of having her look right through him, were driving him mental. Every day he thought that _today_ would be the day he would say something, do something to make her forgive him. But every night he would go to bed feeling like a coward. _You could try to chuck your girlfriend, that might help._ But would it? He wasn't so sure, and he didn't even know how to.

He didn't dislike Lavender, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, but it was increasingly obvious that he didn't want to be her boyfriend. The snogging had been nice at first, but, he could not believe he would ever think such a thing, it had gotten boring really fast. He had hoped that she would feel the same way, or would take the hint as he turned her down more and more frequently, but that did not seem to be the case.

How could you miss someone so much that was right there? Although to be honest, he saw Hermione less and less. She was rarely in the common room and had somehow managed to rearrange the prefect patrol schedule so they were never on rounds at the same time. In the classes that they shared she was always the last in and the first out, and she would sit as far away from him as humanly possible and behind him so that to look at her would have been too risky. He still was able to catch a glimpse of her at mealtimes, but lately she was frequently absent from those too, a fact that worried him deeply. _She needs to eat; can't let herself get sick like she did in third year when she was doing too much_.

His heart clenched. He just wanted her to be okay, to be happy, to be his friend again. Even if he could never be with her the way he really wanted to, even if she snogged a thousand blokes, even if she married bloody Viktor Krum and had a dozen brilliant Qudditich super-star babies; he just needed to be in her life, somehow! He had to think of a way; maybe a long night's sleep would help him come up with an idea.

He shucked on his pajamas and crawled into his four poster. _Barely even dark yet!_ He pulled the curtains and settled in, but sleep was nowhere to be found.

When you're 16, and you're a bloke, and you need to relax, and you have a room all to yourself the best remedy is usually just a few strokes away. _Why not, beats revising my hopeless heap of a potions essay._ Ron purposefully closed his eyes and let his hand snake its way into his pants. He wasn't in a particularly randy mood, so he decided to call on what had recently become his favorite scenario.

 _He is walking a deserted hall on prefect patrol. He turns a corner and runs straight into Hermione. They crash together, but she pulls away quickly when she recognizes him. Their eyes lock for just a moment before she turns and begins to walk very quickly away. He calls for her, but she begins to run. He will not let her get away. He catches her by the arm and pulls her into a deserted room, closing the door behind them. They are both breathing heavily, and she is glaring up at him with a fierce look in her eyes._

 _"_ _What do you want?!" She spits the words at him ferociously._

 _His response is a growl, "You, only you."_

 _She gasps as he pushes her against the wall and lowers his lips to hers. His kiss is passionate yet gentle; he prays silently and fervently that she will return it. His heart soars as she responds with maddening enthusiasm. He moves his hands into her hair and moans into her mouth as she wraps her arms around him clutching his body to her own. When he begins to trail kisses down her neck, she moans his name; it is the sexiest fucking thing he has ever heard. Soon he has her bum in his hands and she is wrapping her legs around his waist. They rip at each other's clothes as he pushes himself against her._

 _"_ _Oh, Ron…I need you…please!"_

 _Her hands are on his trouser buttons. He looks down to see her reaching inside his pants to grab his massive erection._

The idea of her hand wrapped around his cock, of her wanting him, is all it takes to send him brilliantly over the edge. Still panting, he casts a quick cleaning spell and settles in for what he hopes is a good night's sleep.

Ron sat up determinedly, pulled back his bed curtains and surveyed the room. It was dark out, and every one appeared to be in bed. He could make out the little whistling sound Neville made in his sleep and see Harry's glasses on the nightstand.

 _So much for a good night's sleep!_

Deciding he could not spend another minute in his four-poster, Ron got as quietly out of bed as he could and grabbed an old jumper that was on top of his trunk. He figured that by now the common room would be deserted and he might be able to relax in front of the fire and clear his head.

When he reached the last step, he was surprised to see another Gryffindor bending over the sofa. He backed up into the shadows and watched, afraid at first that it might be Lavender lying in wait for him. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the telltale red hair of his sister. She was covering the sofa with a blanket; no! She was covering someone with a blanket!

 _Bloody Hell! If she is down here with Dean I am going to hex him so hard his grandkids will feel it!_

Just as he was ready to reveal himself, Ginny stood upright and he got a clear view of who was lying down. It was Hermione. He felt a thousand things all at once.

He wanted to rush into the room and demand what was happening. Was Hermione sick?

He wanted to bolt up the stairs and pretend he had never seen her.

He wanted to go over to her and beg her forgiveness.

He wanted to grab her and shake her and ask her if she realized how mental she was making him.

Ginny rounded on him before he ever got to make his decision. She was headed toward him with a fire in her eyes that made him sorry he had left his wand upstairs.

"Don't even think about it, Ron!"

"Think about what?"

"Just leave her alone! You should be good enough at it by now, you've had enough practice!"

"Oi! I'm not the one doing the avoiding!"

"Yeah…I can't imagine why Hermione would want to give up her front row seats to the Lav and Won Won show."

"It's none of your bloody business."

The irony of the situation was not lost on him, and for a moment he braced himself for the inevitable argument about how he had thought it was his business when she was snogging Dean. He was confused when not only did Ginny not rip into him, but her eyes actually lost some of their anger.

"Shhhh! If you wake her, I swear to Merlin I will hex your bits off!"

"Why is she sleeping here? Why haven't we woken her up already? Gin…is she alright?!"

"Like you care."

"Dammit, Ginny! She's my best friend…well…she was…"

"Friend? _Best_ friend? Really?! I wouldn't' treat Malfoy the way you've treated her! Fine, you wanna know what's going on? You wanna know why it is _my_ business? I'll tell you, "big brother"! Hermione is my friend and I cannot stand to watch this anymore!"

She glanced behind her at the sleeping Hermione and turned back to her brother. The venom was fading from her voice as she watched his nervous glances over her shoulder.

"She's sleeping here because her bedroom has become hostile territory."

"Oh, please, that is not true!"

"What would you know? I won't go into details…that's not really my place, but I think that you can surely imagine."

"I am sure that I cannot!"

"Cut the crap, Ron, you are not that thick!"

"Hermione has never been the type to be intimidated before."

"And she's not now you Mountain Troll! Let me spell it out for you then. Imagine that you share a room with Victor Krum. Imagine that day after day you have to watch him cram his tongue down her throat. Imagine that every night you have to hear him go on and on about what great tits Hermione has, how amazing it feels when she puts her mouth on his…"

"Shut it, Ginny!"

"Or how he cannot wait to shag her as her birthday present."

"I said shut…wait…what?"

"You heard me."

"But I…we…I mean…I've never done anything like that with Lavender!"

"Well, according to her, you have."

"Ginny, you have to know me better than that."

"I thought I did, but all evidence points the other way."

"She told Hermione that?"

"Not face to face, but she makes damn sure that her conversations with Pavarti are overheard."

"Shit!"

Ron felt that he was going to be physically sick. No wonder Hermione hated him. It was even worse than he thought (and he already thought it was fucking terrible).

"Gin, you have to tell her…she'll believe you!"

"With your girlfriend pouncing on you every five minutes? I doubt it!"

"That's why she's never around anymore…"

"And they say Percy's the smart Weasley!"

"How have I fucked this up so bad?"

"Takes a special talent, I'd say."

"Wait…how is she sleeping through all this?

"I gave her a cup of Granny Prewett's special tea."

"What?! A WHOLE cup? She'll be lucky to wake up before spring!"

"Well she hasn't slept in days, and she wouldn't hear of going to see Pomfrey."

"Days? Ginny, is she alright? I was worried 'cause I haven't seen her eat in at least a week, but I…"

The look on Ginny's faced changed; her features were completely soft. The look in her eyes reminded him of their Mum when she would nurse the scrapes they tended to get when they were up to no good: comforting and loving, but with a touch of mirth.

"She's been better, that's for sure. She's gotten pretty good at glamour charms, but they wear off."

He stepped around his sister and looked closely at Hermione for the first time in weeks. Her hair was a mess; not in the wild way that he loved, just flat and lifeless. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken. As beautiful as he found her, he knew she looked terrible. Guilt gripped his heart, squeezing it tighter than a pair of hand me down trainers two sizes too small. How could he have been so stupid?!

"Ginny, you have to help her! She can't…she needs to eat…she needs-"

"To stop being as stubborn as you are? I swear, sometimes that girl is a Weasley!"

"What can I do? How do I fix this?"

"I don't really know, Ron…you need to talk to her, but honestly, I'm not sure she'd even listen to you now…with the ways things are."

"Shit!"

"Listen, do you _want_ to be with Lavender?"

"Are you effing kidding me?! I've gone to bed before sunset every night this week just to avoid her!"

"Then why?"

"You know why."

"Pretend I'm slow; explain it to me."

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. He had never talked to anyone about this before, and he wasn't sure he wanted to now. But maybe, he thought, if I can make Ginny understand, she can help me talk to Hermione.

"Dammit! Ok…she had Krum, Gin. Viktor _Fucking_ Krum. She snogged him…she….he…how can I ever compete with that?! He has all the things I don't. Talent, money, fame. Even if she did feel like I do, I could never give her what he could. Hell, even Harry would be better for her than me. I have nothing they have. It would always be a comparison. That look she gets when she's disappointed…I couldn't stand to have her look at me like that…I mean, it's bad enough when it's just because I've mucked up an essay."

"Ron…you know I love you, right?"

"Yeah…course I do."

"That's fucked up."

"I know that too."

"You need to sort this out."

"I know, but like you said, I don't think she'll listen to me."

"No…I mean, you need to sort out yourself first. Until you do that, the other can't be, not really."

"I think that may be even harder."

"Ron, it's after midnight, so your birthday is officially tomorrow."

"Not expecting it to be a good one."

"Maybe I can change that. Here's my gift to you…remember when Hermione got all mental over Harry dating Cho?"

"What are you on about? Hermione never got upset about that, in fact it was almost like she was trying to help him."

"Exactly. And remember how she rushed to spend Christmas in Bulgaria last year because she found out Viktor's dad got hurt?"

"Huh? That was our Dad. She came to spend Christmas with us because"

"Because?"

"What are you trying to say? Hermione is just a good friend. She would do that for any one."

"What I am saying is this: she already made her choice, the only one that is comparing you to Krum or Harry is you, Ron. The only disappointed she's ever been in you is now."

Ron was gobsmacked. Everything she said made sense, but he still just couldn't believe it. And what if it were true? Then that really made him a monster. This was all his fault. He had hurt her, intentionally, without even fully understanding how or why. It seemed so obvious to him now, she had asked him to the party. She had tried to let him know.

 _Fuck!_

But now, was it too late? How could she ever forgive him? How could he forgive himself? Surely whatever feelings she might have had were all gone now, he had seen to that. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, beg her to forgive him. But he knew he would not, not yet.

"None of this can be put right tonight. I think we all need some rest. You look a little rough around the edges too."

"Will she be alright down here alone?"

"I don't see why not. I will set alarm so I can come get her up before anyone stirs in the morning."

"Maybe I should stay, just in case. You can wake me first and I'll go up before she knows I was here."

"Well, I guess that would work. I brought down another blanket, it's beside the sofa if you need it."

"Thanks, Gin, for everything."

"You're welcome; just remember, that was your birthday gift…I'm not getting you anything else."

"Sounds fair."

In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Ginny hugged her brother tightly before heading up to bed. Ron set up his watch in the armchair closest to the sofa. He doubted that he would sleep, but that was fine with him. He felt an odd sense of purpose, like he watching over her, protecting her. He leaned close to her sleeping form and took comfort in her closeness, in being able to look at her without fear.

"I know I've cocked things up 'Mione, but I promise I **am** gonna find a way to fix this. Even if you just want to be my friend, that would be enough, more than I deserve really."

He knew he was lying, about the "enough" part anyway. It would never be enough, but if that were his only choice, he would take it. As long as he could keep her from being hurt anymore. He hadn't the slightest idea how to start; maybe he could con Harry out of some of that Felix for real this time.

 _Maybe I could use my birthday wish…_

That was Ron's last conscious thought before sleep claimed him. Even though the chair was entirely too small, and the fire was entirely too hot for his liking, he enjoyed the soundest sleep he had known in weeks.

Ginny couldn't help but smile when she came down to wake them the next morning. She sighed deeply, giving them both a knowing look.

 _She might not be a Weasley…yet._


	2. Chapter 2: Rested

Every pragmatic instinct she possessed had railed against her not to drink that tea. Only Ginny's threat of dragging her to Pomfrey had inspired her to partake. In the end Hermione had closed her eyes, thrown her head back and downed the contents of the tea cup with a thoroughly unladylike gulp.

"Good girl," Ginny quipped, drawing a snarl from the brunette on the sofa.

"Shut it! I don't know why you're so keen on having me drink it. I am sure that it is nothing but ordinary," her eyes went wide as she swayed back into the cushions.

"What's that?"

"I think I'll just…rest my eyes…for just a minute."

"Sure. I'll get you a blanket."

Hermione rolled leisurely over onto her back and opened her eyes. _Ginny was right, Granny Pruett was a genius! That's the best sleep I've had in months!_ She wasn't sure what time it was, but considering the fact that she was generally an early riser and that the night fire still burned in the fireplace, she knew it was still not quite dawn. _That will give me a chance to get showered and dressed before I have to deal with…_

A light snore from close by startled her, and she bolted up to confront the culprit. She drew in a sharp breath, feeling that her heart had stopped when she saw Ron sleeping in the chair closest to her.

She was afraid at first that she had woken him, but as his steady breathing continued she felt certain that he was still asleep. _Why is he here? If Ginny opened her big mouth_! Hermione's first instinct was to dart up the stairs; however, some gnawing hunger led her to take advantage of the moment and look at his sleeping form.

There was no way that he could have been comfortable; his arms and legs could not be contained by the inadequate size of the armchair. The light from the fire was making patterns on his face. Oh, God! His face! It had been so long since she had been able to look at him! A fist of longing clutched her poor heart as she stared at the familiar lines of his jaw, covered in ginger stubble. She had never seen him so unshaven, so manly, yet so vulnerable at the same time.

There was something so intimate about watching him sleep; if she let her mind go she could imagine that she was waking up next to him. _Stop it! You're only torturing yourself!_ _He probably just figured out he needs your help on a potions essay and fell asleep waiting for you to come out of your tea-coma!_ Shaking her head, she stood up as quietly as she could manage, planning to make a run for it. Hermione gasped as a large warm hand grabbed her wrist.

"Please…don't go."

She looked down, and was caught, not only by his grip, but by the sincerity in his blue eyes.

"Why?"

"Hermione…I want..I want," his voice was low and husky in a way that made every part of her ache.

"What do you want, Ron?"

"You, only you."

At his words, she allowed herself to be pulled to him, their bodies and their lips crashing together with the energy and inevitability of the tides on the shore. Nothing else mattered in that moment; he filled her senses, her mind, her heart. Their kisses were perfection: fast and slow, timid and bold in all the right places, making her knees so weak that she sought stability by straddling Ron's lap. They both moaned as their groins were pressed together. The thin flannel of their sleep pants meant that she could feel every glorious inch of him, hard, beneath her, because of her.

"Ron," she hardly recognized the moan that came from the depths of her chest as his hands traveled up her back, under her clothes. Before her brain could convince her other wise, she opened the buttons on her top, revealing her bare breasts to his now desperate mouth.

"Mione…so…beautiful," he worshiped her with his words and his tongue, their hips thrusting together in a slow yet powerful rhythm.

"More…please."

Ron stood, grabbing her bum tightly, and moved her to the sofa. They shuffled positions so that they were on their sides facing one another. He ran his fingers under the waistband of her knickers. She whimpered as he found her aching wetness.

"Show me."

Hermione tentatively covered his hand with hers, directing him to the speed and position that felt best. As her hips began to move involuntarily with his motions, she noticed that his were thrusting as well. Wanting to share the moment with him, she boldly reached for him, lowering his pants to free him before wrapping her hand around his shaft. His eyes rolled back in his head, his fingers twitching over her swollen clit. When she began to stroke him slowly, she felt his stare, urging her to lock her gaze with his. They rocked together, unskilled in a way that made her heart soar. Their breaths were coming quicker, punctuated with small, gasping moans. Ron swore as she licked her lips, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. .

"Fuck! Does it…feel good?"

"Yes!"

"Are you…close?"

She nodded, feeling him thrust more erratically into her hand. She wanted to see him come apart, wanted to come apart with him.

"Er..my..nee!" The sound of his calling her name as his warm seed spilled over her hand was enough to trigger her own orgasm; leaving them both trembling in release. As they recovered, he kissed her forehead gently. She drifted back to sleep to his whispered professions of love.

"Hermione? Hermione! Time to wake up! If you don't get up now all of Gryffindor is gonna see you in your pajamas!"

"Ron?" Hermione sat bolt upright, snatching the blanket to her chest.

"What are you on about?" Ginny stared at her in puzzlement, wondering if there were any way that Hermione could have heard her send Ron up the stairs just minutes before.

"Huh? Oh…I must have had a…dream…of some sort…a bad dream, that's all."

"That's strange, usually Granny's tea gets rid of dreams, makes the sleep more restful."

"Yes, well…I am…rested, that is, I better get going, class and all."

Ginny was left to wonder open-mouthed as Hermione sprinted up the stairs. _Merlin knows what it's gonna take to get these two together, something stronger than tea that's for damn sure!_


	3. Chapter 3: Resolved

"Come on Lavender, you know it's for the best. You were just telling me that he hadn't even snogged you since he was poisoned."

"That's not the point, not the point at all Pavarti!"

"Then explain the point. Because despite the shite you talk in front of our roommate, your "relationship" with Ron has never been that great."

"That's not true! He was the love of my life!"

"Don't be so dramatic, neither of you ever used that word. The boy never even got you a gift, and in all these months he hasn't even tried to take your clothes off."

"That's just because he's a gentleman!"

"Get off it! What is really going on here?"

Hermione flattened herself against the wall outside her shared room. The guilt for eavesdropping was no match for the euphoria brought about by the content of the conversation. She had purposely waited to return to her room that night suspecting that the recent break up would make things impossibly more awkward. For a brief moment she considered going in and adding her own thoughts, but she decided that gloating was not appropriate. _Not that it wouldn't be satisfying_. In light of this new information she decided to return to the common room; suddenly she felt anything but tired.

Ron lay in his four poster thinking about recent events, and while he felt lighter than he had in months, he was still anxious about what came next. Part of him felt hopeful; it was a tiny flame that had been ignited when he woke up after his poisoning to find Hermione watching over him. In the weeks that followed, he had stoked that fire with every little scrap: shy glances, lingering touches, soft words. All the while he tried to extricate himself from the mess that he had made with Lavender. He still couldn't quite believe that it was over. _If I had only known that all it would take was seeing Hermione come out of my room then I would've done that weeks ago!_

He half chuckled at the thought, but then shivered slightly when he thought of Lavender's anger. It was a little terrifying. _Not sexy like Hermione when she gets mad…her hair all wild…her eyes flashing…her mouth slightly open…her chest heaving._ Before Ron could get caught up in an elaborate fantasy, he had a horrible thought, one that caused him to bolt upright in his bed. _Bloody hell! Hermione had to go up there alone tonight!_

Now he knew for a fact that Hermione could take care of herself, her punching Draco Malfoy in the face was still one of the greatest moments of his life, but he was still worried. After all he had put her through it hardly seemed fair that he should be able to sleep peacefully while she had to face the aftermath on her own. Realizing that he could not go up the girls' staircase, he decided to do the next best thing and go down to the common room. At least he could be closer to her _just in case_.

For a few moments he thought the perhaps he had in fact drifted off to sleep because the sight of her sitting on the sofa, reading in the dim light, was too good not to be a dream. When she looked up and noticed him the smile she gave him quite literally took his breath.

"Ron, is everything all right? I thought you had gone to bed ages ago."

"'Mfine…just wasn't as knackered as I reckoned. What about you? Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm perfectly fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ron made a small jerk of his head toward her dormitory, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Well I wouldn't say that the climate is welcoming, there was no trouble to speak of."

"Good, glad to hear it," he rubbed the back of his neck, contemplating his next move. Should he just sit down beside her? What if she wanted to be alone? What if…

"Want to sit down?" Hermione pulled her knees into her chest and patted the sofa cushion.

"Yeah, sure. I don't want to disturb your reading."

"You aren't…it's not for class, just a little something for…pleasure."

The book was small and looked to be made entirely of paper, obviously a muggle book of some sort. He sat down beside her grateful for the distracting topic.

"What's it about?"

"Oh…well…it's about this woman who accidently travels back in time.'

"Time turner?"

"No, it's a muggle book. She goes through these magic stones in Scotland and meets a very brave highlander."

"Sounds…interesting."

"Actually, it is. This is the third book in the series and there are all sorts of battles and intrigues and…I'm sure you don't want to hear about my book."

"Course I do! Did your mum send it to you?"

"This…oh, no!" Was it his imagination or was she blushing? What kind of book was this? Definitely an interesting development.

"Hermione Granger! What exactly are you reading?" He made his eyes wide in mock alarm. "I'm not sure that I should be alone with such scandalous reading materials!"

She hit him playfully in the arm with the book before tossing it aside, "Well then I guess it's a good thing that I'm here to protect your delicate virtue."

"It's a pretty big job, think you can handle it?" _Stay calm, Weasley, stay calm._

"Do you _want_ me to handle it?" Hermione leaned in even closer and smirked up at him in way that was decidedly NOT conducive to any type of virtue.

 _Sweet merciful fuck! Is she trying to kill me? Forget my virtue! Take it! It is ALL yours!_

"You're the only one I would trust."

In a moment of blinding courage, he gathered a stray curl and tucked it gently behind her ear. He held his breath, sure that she could hear the pounding of his heart. His fingers brushed across her cheek as he brought his arm to rest on the back of the sofa.

"Happy to hear it."

They were now facing each other on the sofa, leaning dangerously toward one another, their knees touching. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this close to her. Had they ever been this close? This alone? It would be so easy to move those last few inches, to take her in his arms, to… _No! Not like this! I can't just kiss her and not tell her the truth. I will not cock this up!_

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"I know that we haven't really talked about this, but I feel like we need to…you know? I mean…I apologized for being a prat…for being so awful to you."

"It's okay, I was pretty awful to you as well."

"But you should have been! I was such an ass and I know that it was hard on you, having to room with, you know…and I need you to know that no matter what you may have heard…well, we…I mean I…"

"I know, Ron."

"You do?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other for what felt like hours, each searching the other for confirmation of what they both already knew. It was a delicious limbo, full of tension and promise. It reminded him of when Charlie would secretly give him flying lessons: the elation of soaring off the ground tempered by the fear of crashing to the ground.

"Hermione…I want…I want," he struggled to find just the right words. The way that she was looking at him made it hard to concentrate. Her voice, almost a whisper, brought him back to the moment.

"What do you want, Ron?"

He gave her the truest answer he could.

"You, only"

"You." Her response echoed his, and for a moment he couldn't breathe properly. Every invisible tether that had held him back for months, no, YEARS snapped and he could not wait another second. He cupped her cheek in his trembling hand and brought his lips reverently to hers.

She sighed into him, testing his resolve to keep the kiss gentle, a resolve that all but evaporated when he felt her tongue tentatively brush his bottom lip. He moaned, opening his mouth to her, exploring hers languidly. As the kiss deepened, he buried his right hand deep into the hair at the nape of her neck and used his left hand to bring her closer. The enthusiasm in her response made him dizzy; the feel of her arms wrapping around him, the weight of her as she settled on his lap.

He tried to keep the lower half of his body as still as possible, knowing that any shifting on his part would result in her discovering just how excited he was at the moment. The last thing he wanted was for her to think was that he was just some randy teenager looking for a meaningless snog. Suddenly he felt overwhelmed: holding her, kissing her was too much, too good. He reluctantly pulled back to catch his breath, and they panted together, their foreheads touching.

"Ron?"

"Huh?"

"Is this real? Are you really here?"

"Yes…so real."

"Good, I was afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?" He pulled back further so that he could search her eyes, somewhat concerned about what her answer might be.

She looked shyly back at him, eyes wet, cheeks blooming pink, "That this is just another dream. That I will wake up alone. That I will have to keep pretending that I don't want you, that I don't love you."

The sincerity of those words, words he wanted to wrap around him like quilt against the coldness of the world, made his vision blur. "This no dream, love. We don't have to pretend anymore."

"We?"

"We. I love you, Hermione."

In an overflow of emotion they pulled each other into a desperate kiss, a physical representation of so many long repressed feelings. As mouths and hands grew bolder, Ron forgot to guard his reaction and thrust his hips upward in an attempt to relieve his all-consuming ache. Hermione moaned into his mouth and pushed her own hips down, desperate to feel as much of him as she could.

"Oh God, Ron," the throaty way she called his name made his heart and his cock feel as if they would both explode.

"Is this…okay?" He gripped her tighter and thrust upward, feeling her heat between the thin layers of their pajamas. _Please say yes!_

"Yes. Please don't stop."

He could not contain the growl that came from his lips at hearing her say the words he had imagined her saying in his most intimate fantasies. He trailed sloppy kisses down her throat as she threw her head back, she was moving in a far less rhythmic way now. He brought his hands to her hips, pushing her weight more forcefully down on his aching erection. She was making the most amazing sounds, and he stared up at her worshipfully, her arousal increasing his own to a maddening level.

"Fuuuck…you are so bloody gorgeous."

Just when he thought he couldn't not physically take any more, she stopped moving, gripping his shoulders as she began to tremble. With two more erratic thrusts he joined her, hugging her body tightly to his own as he moaned out her name.

Ron slowly stroked her back as their breathing returned to normal. He could not believe that it had been real, but here they were.

"Oh, no!" Hermione's words immediately set him into a panic. _Did I take it too far? Does she hate me? Did we just get caught?_

"What is it?" He tried to sound unworried, but there was a tremble in his voice.

Hermione sat up straight in his lap and furrowed her eyebrows like he had seen her done a million times when explaining the rules to an errant first year.

"Your virtue: I guess I wasn't the right person to protect it after all!" Her playful pout arousing him all over again.

"Well Miss Granger, I would say you made a rather poor job of it, but I would be willing to give you another chance, seeing as how I love you and all."

"As much as I love you too, Mr. Weasely, I would say that shows a rather poor lack of judgement on your part."

At that he pulled her close, laughing into her hair. And even though the hour was very late, neither of them felt any desire to rest.


End file.
